


A Dire Ramification

by ThePirateHawk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allydia - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction, M/M, Questioning, Scisaac - Freeform, confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePirateHawk/pseuds/ThePirateHawk
Summary: Scott just wanted to be normal for once.Just for one moment,one minute,he wanted to try and be normal.That was all he wanted.But instead,He got heartbreak,murder,and mistakes.The story of how two werewolves were almost in love, and how two people would be willing to do anything for each other.Anything.





	1. Chicken Tacos and Motorcycles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bpaigek97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bpaigek97/gifts).



> Dire :  
> 1\. (of a situation or event) extremely serious or urgent  
> 2\. (of a warning or threat) presaging disaster
> 
> Ramification :  
> 1\. a consequence of an action or event, especially when complex or unwelcome

"Chicken tacos," Isaac finally answered Scott's question about what he would like to eat that night. "I am craving some chicken tacos." He confirmed, nodding slightly.

"Me, too, actually." Scott suddenly said. "I actually have some cash tonight. How does The Blue Iguana sound to you?" He asked as he stood up from the couch he was lounging on. He and Isaac had been watching a D-rated horror movie about vampires. The few mentions of beast-like werewolves in the movie had Isaac and Scott huffing. They were so off from the truth, it was hilarious. The only thing they probably got right was the full moon and the name. Nothing else seemed to match to what the werewolves were actually like.

"I haven't eaten there in awhile," Isaac said lightly. He left out the fact the last time he had been there was when he was a lot younger, and his mother and Camden were still alive. It was before his father had become particularly abusive towards him. He pushed the pleasant but also emotional memories away. The last thing he wanted to do was work himself up into one of his... fits. He calls them fits and episodes. Scott always hates it when he calls them that. The tan werewolf always expressed his concern for Isaac about his rough flashbacks and claustrophobia, but Isaac tried not to bother him with his emotional uneasiness. The last thing Scott needed at the moment was more on his plate.

"Good. They have these great chicken tacos. I had them a few weeks ago when I was out and about with Allison." Scott said happily. Isaac couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He wanted to pretend he was jealous of Scott for being with Allison, but if he was honest with himself, it was really the other way around. He forcefully shoved the jealousy away. He wasn't gay. He needed to calm down. Scott was his friend just as much as he was Stiles's or Lydia's. He couldn't say the same about Allison– he was pretty sure Scott and Allison were dating, but their relationship had always been a rollercoaster ride that Isaac was uninterested in experiencing. The less he knew, the better, right?

"That sounds good to me." Isaac said, smiling slightly. "Off we go then, eh?" He said as he put on his shoes. He watched as Scott did the same and walked out the door.

One of Isaac's guilty pleasures was riding on the motorcycle with Scott. At first, he had been utterly terrified. Eventually, he had gotten used to the feeling of clinging to Scott's back for safety as the wind flew quickly past him. Scott would always made sure Isaac wore the helmet. It would give the beta so much anxiety when Scott would drive it with no helmet, but he never gave Isaac a say in it. He would just hand him the helmet and say "wear it" before getting on the motorcycle.

This past month, however, Melissa surprised Isaac with a helmet of his own. He figured she had been having worries about Scott riding without one as well, despite him being a werewolf. Isaac wasn't sure if werewolves could heal from brain injuries. He was sure about one thing— he didn't want to learn by experience.

Scott got on the bike before Isaac did, helmet strapped on. He revved it as Isaac got on, positioning himself so they would both be on comfortably. He wrapped his arms gently but snugly around Scott's midsection to hold on. Scott waited for him to say he was ready before he sped off.

Scott was never about dangerous driving, especially when it came to having Isaac being with him. He always followed all the driving laws. He was simply, overall, a really good driver. He wondered when he would get an actual car instead of his mother's vehicle and his bike. He hoped he would still be around Scott when that happened.

The thought of losing his friendship with Scott scared him. He didn't want to lose this. He didn't want to lose the motorcycle riding, chicken tacos late at night, and he didn't want to miss the overall kindness Scott expressed towards him. In all honesty, he was the nicest boy Isaac had ever met. Sometimes, Isaac wondered if it was normal to be as influenced by Scott as he was. If Scott said not to do something, nine point nine times out of ten, he wouldn't do it because he had been told not to by him. His loyalty to the friendly teenager never wavered. He had never, even still now, found a reason for him to not be loyal to Scott.

Isaac used to try to talk to Scott while they were on the motorcycle, given he was a wonderful driver and small talk never distracted him to the point of dangerous driving. The noise of the loud vehicle he was on and the noises of other vehicles around him would pound in his ears. The volume was elevated thanks to his werewolf hearing, so it made hearing an overall challenge. So he would just use signals; he would tighten his grip on Scott whenever he would feel uncomfortable. Eventually, talking became easier. The other vehicles weren't so loud, and Isaac had more control over which sounds were emphasized by his werewolf hearing.

As Scott pulled into the parking lot of the Mexican restaurant, Isaac loosened his grip on him a little. He realized he had been holding on a little tighter than usual. He wasn't entirely sure as to why, but he guessed he had been doing it subconsciously. He felt a little guilty at the prospect of Scott paying for his dinner. Scott had already been doing so many things for him— why make him do this, too? Isaac decided to point this out.

"Scott, you don't have to pay for me. I probably have some cash in m–" Before Isaac could finish, Scott looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and interrupted.

"I don't think so. I'm paying. Before you pull that "but you do so much for me already" excuse like you often do in situations like this, I'm saying the final decision; I'm paying." Scott said firmly with a small smile, dark eyes sparkling a little thanks to the white lights illuminating the restaurant before them.

"But Scott-"

"I thought I said the final decision," Scott said playfully, looking at Isaac. "No buts, ands, or ifs." He added before Isaac could argue again.

"Fine. You're too amazing to me," Isaac mumbled quietly, looking at Scott for a moment as he had already started heading inside the restaurant. Isaac quickly went up to follow. Instead of going inside like Isaac expected him to, he opened the door and held it open for Isaac. That made the beta smile at him, no doubt.

As the waitress at the restaurant seated them, Isaac couldn't seem to talk his eyes off Scott. He bit his lip slightly and quickly distracted himself with the menu when it was given to them. Scott looked at him from across the booth table they were sitting at.

"So, the chicken tacos I got last time were really good, so you should probably get them," Scott recommended.

Isaac put the menu down. "I'm trusting you on this. If they turn out to be bad, I'll..." He paused for a moment. "I'll not trust you when it comes to Mexican food ever again." He finished.

Scott laughed slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, well, when _I_ had them, they were good. I'm not sure how your taste buds work, buddy," he defended playfully at Isaac's comment.

When the waitress came back to ask their drinks, they ordered their drinks and their food. Scott got the chicken tacos again with Isaac, so if they were bad, they could experience bad food together. She nodded after taking down their order and walking off, her hips swaying.

Isaac's focus still remained on Scott. It basically remained on him the entire time. He was very interested in what he had to say whenever he spoke, and he would agree with him on most things. Isaac was just praying conversation about Allison wouldn't come up, because he hated to be rude to Scott, but he simply did not like nor care for Allison. She was okay, and he certainly didn't want anything bad to happen to her, but he just never really got along with her. He didn't think he ever would. Especially after her stabbing him around twenty times with knives. Yeah, that doesn't exactly get you points for a good first impression, does it?

Fortunately for Isaac, that very topic was never brought up. It was mainly learning new stuff about each other: little snippets of the past, favorite colors, favorite movies. The little things that mattered to Isaac.

Isaac learned a few things; Scott liked listen to all kinds of music. It ranged from Coldplay to Foster the People to others. He also learned Scott's least favorite color was gold, Scott's favorite female superhero was Wonder Woman, and that Scott had always wanted a puppy, even before becoming a werewolf. He had told Scott a few things about himself like his favorite tea, his favorite video game, his least favorite soft drink, and his least favorite kind of music.

Scott suddenly asked him a quick but curious question when they were almost done eating. "Who is your favorite pack member and why?" He paused after he said it. "Not that I think favoritism is good or anything, I'm just curious." He added quickly afterwards. He didn't want to get the wrong idea across probably.

Isaac didn't even have to think on this one. The word flew out of his mouth before he could ponder. "You."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Why?"

Isaac fiddled with his fork, shoveling rice in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed before answering. "You're.. you're so kind. I really like that about you. You're such a nice person, and you've never been cruel towards me when so many people have. You're the only pack member I really trust." Isaac admitted softly. There was so much more he could say, but he didn't want to creep out Scott.

Scott smiled one of his puppy smiles where his eyes twinkled and his mouth curled up happily. 

It was a good night..

If only the next day could of been half as good.


	2. The Phone Calls

Isaac was always one to wake up earlier than most. Even when staying out late, he would always wake up around eight or nine the next time. His average time of waking up was before eight but usually after seven. He had woken up at six before. Every now and then he would wake up around ten, the latest ten thirty. He didn't like to sleep late. He feared he would miss the day or miss something important. Another reason was that he often forced himself awake whenever he could so his nightmares wouldn't plague him as harshly.

Here he was, sitting in the chair near Scott's bed. He had developed a habit of watching him sleep, just to make sure he was alive and breathing. Isaac didn't like to admit it, but always had irritational fears of those around him getting hurt. So whenever he woke up, he would regularly patrol Melissa and Scott. Whenever Melissa was already off to work, Isaac would just sit in Scott's room and patiently wait for him to wake up. Often, he would nudge him and get him up if it took longer than eleven. 

Isaac eyed Scott for a moment before looking down at his fingernails. He used to bite them in his sleep thanks to nightmares or bite them whenever he was worried someone was upset with him. His fingernails were looking healthier and beginning to grow better than before. He assumed that was because he felt secure now that he was in a stable environment with Scott and Melissa.

"Mmmm, Isaac, good morning," a sleepy voice came from his left. He looked up and saw Scott groggily beginning to wake up. You see, Isaac would always pretend like he wasn't in there watching Scott like his heartbeat would stop if he left him for more than twenty minutes. Last thing he wanted was to scare Scott off.

"Good morning, Scott. How'd you sleep?" Isaac asked softly, looking at his hands before looking back at Scott, smiling ever so slightly.

"I slept... mmm... well. How about you?" Scott sleepily blinked his eyes a couple times. "I know that couch isn't very comfortable," he added after a few slow moments. "You should actually sleep in a bed, Isaac."

Isaac noticed that the more and more awake Scott was becoming, the more he seemed concerned about the sleeping arrangement. When Isaac had first arrived, he refused to take Scott's bed from him. He simply refused. He wasn't going to come in here and ask to stay _and_ take his bed, too. 

"I'm okay. My back and shoulders don't ache. It's better than the floor." Isaac added the last part softly.

"Where'd you sleep on the floor?" Scott looked confused for a moment.

"At Derek's. I appreciate him letting me stay, but he wasn't exactly the most hospitable person. But that's okay. A floor is better than.." he paused as if he were going to say something but stopped himself. "A floor is better than nothing at all, right?" He recovered.

Scott frowned. "In that loft of his?" He asked, though he knew the answer. He got out of bed tiredly.

One thing Isaac had learned about Scott is that he liked to sleep with no shirt and sometimes with pants. Isaac, however, preferred to sleep with a shirt and shorts or pants. He didn't like his lower back to be exposed for reasons he would rather not confront at the moment. He looked at Scott for a few seconds before standing up.

"Hey, Scott, have you ever made pancakes?" Isaac suddenly asked curiously.

The tan skinned boy looked at him for a minute. "Now that I think about it, I've never made them from scratch, no." He answered. 

"One of these days we should have a pancake day. I haven't made pancakes in ages." Isaac said contently, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile.

"That sounds good to me." Scott nodded. "I love pancakes. I like them better than waffles." He commented.

"Really? So do I." Isaac smiled a bit more. He was learning more stuff.

That was when the sound of a cellphone ringing was heard. It was definitely Scott's, given Isaac didn't exactly have one at the moment. He watched the other boy reach for it tiredly and answer it.

"Hello?"

Isaac was thankful for his werewolf hearing. He could hear whatever the other person on the end was going to say. He shouldn't listen, but he couldn't help himself.

_"Scott, can you come over? Lydia is with family and I'm really lonely."_

Jealousy stung Isaac slightly as he listened. The voice most definitely belonged to none other than Allison Argent, the girl who wanted to feel powerful. Normally Isaac wouldn't mind if someone wanted to hang out with Scott and he wasn't involved, but if it was Allison, he had an idea about what would happen nine out of ten times. The thought sickened his stomach, and he bit his lip, looking down as Scott said he could come over in a few minutes and hung up.

"Hey, Isaac, I gotta go. I'll probably be back in two or three hours?" Scott said to him with a small smile.

Isaac nodded. "Okay. I'll probably still be here. Unless I decide to walk anywhere." He said the last part humorously before he walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Scott came out a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to go. "Hey, Isaac," he hesitated in front of the front door. "I.." He sounded as if he were going to say something. "Stay safe. I'll seen you soon." He smiled before shutting the door behind him, leaving Isaac alone in the house.

The first thirty minutes were okay. He made even himself a bowl of maple and brown sugar oatmeal with just a little too much water in it, but it was still good. Once he finished with that, he proceeded to get up and wash his dish. One dish became another dish until he had washed all of them in the sink out of old habit. His father had always made him do the dishes. If they weren't done when he got home, he wouldn't be very pleased with Isaac.

Isaac did a few other small little chores around the house. He didn't like how noisy the vacuum was, but he vacuumed the living room anyways. He made sure his little sleeping area, which was the couch, was tidied up and all the blankets and pillows put away in the towel closet so it looked more like a living room. He also did his own laundry, which he was used to doing. The only thing was that he didn't really have any of his own clothes, so he was mainly washing Scott's clothes (both the ones he borrowed and the ones he didn't). 

Isaac remembered the first time Melissa noticed the house had been tidied up when she had come home two nights after Isaac had showed up at their house. She had looked bewildered because Scott, bless his heart, usually didn't clean unless he was incredibly motivated. Besides, this was done articulately, as if messing up would be horrible.

That was when she had looked at Isaac and smiled.

Isaac remembered after that smile she had come to him insisting he didn't have to clean to stay. He could stay here as long as he needed. Isaac couldn't have his conscience eating at him because they were spending money feeding and taking care of him, and he wasn't doing anything in return. He had to do something to make himself feel like he belonged, at least a little. Scott always made him feel like he belonged. Scott never brought up his father. Scott never accused him doing anything. Scott only had ever cared about Isaac. It was the same for Melissa.

Isaac quietly wondered what Scott was doing now. He hoped he wasn't kissing Allison. They were currently on their seventh "break-up." They simply kept returning to each other like two magnets. It bothered Isaac because it seemed as if Scott's fights and make-ups with Allison were taking a tole on him emotionally. The last thing Isaac wanted to see was a sad Scott McCall.

Isaac never said anything to Scott about his jealousy over when he would hang out with other people. Besides, who was he to say anything? He hated that he felt slightly jealous because he didn't want to feel negative when whoever it was made Scott happy. He would never show his jealousy, he had decided awhile back. If he was even jealous. Maybe he was just imagining things?

Isaac sat down on the couch and turned on the tv. It happened as he was changing channels. His nostrils flared, and he whipped his head around when the scent hit his nostrils. The sound of footsteps hit his ears, and he stood up. He didn't say anything, looking around. He hadn't smelled this scent before– which meant it wasn't someone he knew. Was someone coming in for repairs who he wasn't told about? He figured that was what it was, except it seemed something was off. He went around the house to where the scent lead.

That was a huge mistake.


	3. French Fries Dipped in Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott gets to Allison's house after she invited him over. They sit and talk. The subject of what you can't dip French Fries in came up. That was when Allison got a tub of birthday cake ice cream and told Scott to dip a French fry in it.

Scott pulled up into the driveway of Allison's house. He hadn't been here in a couple days. The last couple evenings had been spent with Isaac, going out to eat or watching a movie together. The normal things friends do.

He got off his bike, biting his lip slightly. His feelings for Allison often got muddled between romance and friendship. He didn't know how he felt about her anymore. He had been in love with her— but he almost felt like he had fallen out of love (or is in the process of doing so). 

Each step drew him closer to her front door. So many memories plagued him as he did so. He thought of the time Chris Argent had struck him with his car accidentally. He remembered hiding in the garage. After Allison almost died, she had moved back to her former home. Why? Scott had no idea. Maybe the memories there were better.

Allison's mother's death had been a big impact on her, but it hadn't stopped her from moving back in. Scott wondered how Allison felt about all of that. She had thought it was Derek's fault the entire time before he had told her exactly why Derek did so. The woman was bat-shit crazy, there was no other way to describe it, honestly.

Before he realized it, he was already at her door. He raised up his fist to knock lightly on the wooden door. After rapping twice, the door swung open to reveal a smiling Allison. She had dark circles under her eyes, which gave Scott an idea that she hadn't been sleeping properly recently. He frowned slightly at the thought, but quickly replaced it with a smile in return for hers. She stepped aside to let him in, and he walked in. Setting his helmet down on the couch, he looked over at her.

“Hey Alli.” Scott said with a small smile still on his face. “I tried to get here quickly.” He looked at her.

“Hi Scott.” Allison's smile faltered a little. “It's fine. I'm surprised you came as fast as you did. You didn't have to, you know. I'm sure Isaac was a little surprised at your sudden departure.” She laughed slightly. It sounded a little forced, but with some genuine feel to it.

“Nah, he was fine with it. He didn't seem fazed at all. He's a pretty chill dude.” Scott shrugged as he sat down on the couch beside Allison, who had sat there moments earlier. “So, how are you feeling, Alli?” He asked.

“I'm.. doing not so good, Scott.” She admitted, looking down at her hands. “I've felt so lonely recently.” She added quietly. She seemed angry at the fact she felt alone. She had always wanted to feel powerful, in control, hadn't she?

“Hey, you have me,” Scott said warmly, reaching out and gently placing his fingers on the palm of one of her hands. He gave her hand a slight squeeze. He was wonderful at calming people down and helping them. Allison was no exception.

“I know,” Allison smiled at Scott. She looked down at their hands when he squeezed hers gently. She wrapped her hand around his in return, giving it a soft squeeze like he had to her moments ago. “I'm always thankful for you, Scott. You've always been here for me.” She said, genuine emotion in her voice and eyes. She wasn't lying. “If it wasn't for you and Isaac, I would be dead. You two reacted so fast. The others froze up. I- I owe you my life, Scott.” Allison added, looking up from their entwined hands, eyes watering. Scott hadn't expected her to get emotional so quickly. He reached out and gently rubbed circles in her back as she continued speaking. “I thought I loved Isaac, Scott, but I didn't. He's more like a brother to me now. I- I don't know what you are anymore. I was so sure before all of this shit went down. Now I have no idea.” Allison admitted. Pain laced her voice slightly.

“Hey, hey,” Scott said softly. “You don't have to worry about what I am right now. Just know I'm here for you, Alli. We can take all the time we need to figure this out, okay?” He said to her kindly. He could admit, he understood what she was talking about. He didn't know what she was to him anymore. Always going to be important, but in what way? Romantic or platonic? Did it honestly matter anymore?

“Hey, Alli, how about I go see what you have to freezer and cook us something to eat and we can watch Netflix together? Just something to calm you down, honey.” Scott offered with a small, warm smile. Allison immediately nodded, glad to be able to relax and not be alone. Scott nodded in return and got up. He walked across the room to where Allison's kitchen was. 

After searching the freezer for about seven minutes, he finally decided on a bag of oven French fries. It wasn't the curly kind like Stiles liked; Allison's favorite kind of French fry had always been the crinkly but not curly ones. They were better than the straight ones. He grabbed the bag. After following the instructions, he popped them in the oven. He paced around a little, thinking about Allison's words. While the French fries cooked, he went back into the room with Allison.

“Scott, can we watch Cake Wars?” Allison asked with a smile. She seemed more at ease than before. 

Scott laughed slightly. “Definitely. I never could learn how to bake. Isaac does, though.” He shrugged with a smile. Allison titled her head. “Really? That's cool. We should totally get him to bake us some cookies.” Allison said before focusing back on the tv. Scott sat down beside her, letting her cuddle up against him. Their relationship didn't feel so sexually centered like it once had been. It felt warmer, more emotional. It felt as if it were built on a foundation of trust and experience. They knew each other so well now. He knew her favorite color was periwinkle blue. Her favorite fish to eat was lemon pepper seasoned rainbow trout. Her favorite type of music was a mixture of pop and indie. He bet she knew his answers to all of those things, too.

A timer going off knocked him out of his thoughts. He got up. “Alli, I think that's the French fries.” Scott said before going into the kitchen. The smell of cooked potato filled the room. They definitely smelled done. He opened up the oven, ignoring the wave of heat that welcomed him as he did so. He grabbed it, throwing it on the counter as quickly as possible. He had no interest in burning the skin off of his fingers. Not that it would really matter; they would just heal back anyways. Might take a little while, but they would. 

“Hey Scott, you know what? I was thinking. You know how people dip fries in milkshakes?” Allison called out. 

Scott nodded. “Yeah. Stiles used to slap me on the hand for doing that to his curly fries until he tried it for himself. He actually like it.” Scott laughed at the memory.

Allison gave a small laugh. This one didn't sound forced at all. “Oh wow. Well, anyways, I was thinking. I have some ice cream in the freezer. What if we dip the fries in that?” She asked.

Scott thought for a moment. “That sounds pretty good, Alli. What kind of ice cream do you have?” He asked, opening the freezer. “Birthday cake only? This will be interesting.” Scott chuckled. He grabbed the ice cream, setting the tub on the counter. He pulled it open. He then fixed the fries on a plate and walked into the living room with the tub in one hand and the plate in the other, carefully balanced. He set them both down on the table in front of the couch. He plopped down beside Allison, smiling slightly.

Allison leaned forward, about to reach for the fries. She ignored Scott's warning about how how they were. “The ice cream will cool it off.” She shrugged as she dipped the French fry quickly in the ice cream and threw it in her mouth. It had been very hot, but the ice cream had indeed cooled it off. She did this a couple times, and Scott couldn't help but chuckle at her eagerness to dip the fries in the cold treat.

Deciding it might not be that bad, Scott leaned forward and grabbed a French fry. He dipped it in the ice cream hesitantly. He put it in his mouth, and he blinked. It was a surprisingly good taste. The birthday cake flavor was odd with the salt from the fry, but it was pretty good. He smiled and looked at Allison. “This was a good idea.” He said warmly.

Allison looked over at him for a moment, smiling. The smile reached her eyes, which were sparkling with content. Her dark eyes seemed to twinkle with happiness. Scott didn't regret coming over.

“Thank you, Scott.” Allison said softly. “Not only for this, but in general. You're the best werewolf ever.” She said contently, wrapping her arms around his chest and hugging him tightly. The show Cake Wars was now ignored as he wrapped his arms around her in return. 

A few minutes later, Allison had managed to drift off to sleep. How? Scott had no idea. He took his phone out of his pocket, and his heart stopped. He had fifty seven notifications. Who the hell would be trying to contact him like that? He unlocked his phone hastily, sitting up straighter. Allison squirmed around a small bit, questioning why the warm mass that had been snuggled against her had moved. 

The first notifications were calls from Stiles. Thirty of them at least.

Stiles : Dude I need to talk to you

Stiles : Dude

Stiles : Scott! SCOTT! 

Stiles : Did Isaac say he was going anywhere?

Stiles : I NEED YOU TO CALL ME RIGHT NOW

Stiles : oh my goD THERE IS BLOOD IN YOUR HOUSE SCOTT! LOTS OF IT

Messages of this nature ensued. Scott immediately opened up the contact of Stiles, anxiety biting at his heart. He called him.

"Scott, what the fucking hell? What took you so long?"

"I had my phone on mute. I'm sorry, Stiles. What's wrong?" Scott said quickly.

“I went to check to see if you were home because you weren't answering my texts.” Stiles explained. “I know Isaac lives with you so I knocked on the door. Nobody answered. I knew it wasn't that y'all couldn't of heard me. So I- I used the spare key Melissa gave me. I went in, and I got a really, really bad feeling. I felt really nervous, Scott. I went in there further and there was blood all over the kitchen counter. I grabbed one of the knives in the kitchen and walked around to see if I could find anything else. One of the pictures on the wall had been pulled off like there was a struggle or something. I don't know, Scott!” Stiles sounded worried. 

“I- I went to Allison's. She called me wanting me to come over. I left Isaac all by himself.” Scott's voice almost broke. “Im on my way, Stiles. Did you find Isaac? Please tell me you found him. Please.” Anxiety about the whereabouts of the beta filled his heart. This was his fault. He left Isaac alone.

“That's the thing, Scott. He's nowhere to be seen. I- I called Derek, and he came over..” Stiles said quietly.

“And?”

“He said the blood definitely was Isaac's.”


	4. a lack of foresight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For someone who makes me smile every day,  
> this is for you, Brooke.  
> -  
> Unsure as to what to do, the pack turns to their banshee member to try to see how Isaac is doing.

Lydia had just finished painting her left thumb with a glossy cover of topcoat to improve the appearance of the bright red nail polish she had applied before. Clicking the nail machine that had the light that quickened the pace of the drying process on, she stuck her nails under the light. 

As soon as the process was finished, Lydia retracted her hand. She hummed slightly to herself as she admired her handiwork. Her nails were looking better than ever. They were red with a shiny topcoat on, making them look sleek and bright. A small smile formed on her lips that were glossed a similar color red.

Her green eyes found their way to look over at her vanity where her phone laid when a buzz attracted her attention. Getting to her feet, she padded casually over to it. She swiftly unplugged it and held it in her hands, unlocking it with the quick typing of a password and the slide of a finger.

**Queen Argent : Hey Lyds.** _12:30_

**You : Hey Alli. What's up? I just finished painting my nails, so if my responses are slow, that's why.** _12:31_

**Queen Argent : Ooo, what color did you paint them? You did white and grey the other day. That was really cute.** _12:31_

**Queen Argent : Nothing much, really. I called Scott to come hang out with me. I didn't want to bother you.** _12:32_

**You : Bullshit. You never both me, Alli.** _12:32_

**You : I painted them a nice shade of blood red.** _Read 12:33_

Allison's next response didn't come until around ten minutes later. Lydia was contemplating over what she should have for lunch when it came. She perked up, wondering where her best friend had gone in the last ten minutes.

**Queen Argent : Sorry I disappeared! Scott arrived. He's in the kitchen rn. I have to go soon, because I want to spend them with him instead of on my phone, y'know? Don't wanna be rude! Love you, bye <3 ** _12:46_

**You : I understand! Have fun you two. If he does anything stupid, I'll kick his ass for you. I love you too.** _Read 12:47_

Lydia gave a small sigh. She couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Scott and Allison were spending time together while she was just stuck all alone. The all too familiar bitter feeling she developed whenever Allison had been with Scott formed again in her gut. What was so great about him?

She pushed the feelings back. Now was no time to start getting bothered by Scott. He had done nothing wrong. Besides, Allison was never going to get back with him. She had said so herself, and Lydia had assumed Scott had respectfully agreed given they were on friendly speaking terms.

So the ginger plopped down on her bed, grabbing a book that had a pale blue bookmark sticking out of it. She opened it up to where it was, eyes scrolling down until she reached where she had stopped. She was a fan of the occasional forbidden romance, and she was a fan of classics. She enjoyed the thriller of Jekyll and Hyde.  She had reread that for the fourth time last week. Not many people took her for a reader, but no one ever said you couldn't be pretty and popular _and_ a bookworm.

 

Lydia was just reaching the climax of her story when her phone started buzzing crazily. Wondering who would be spamming her like this, she presumed it was Alli. Unlocking her phone, she realized it was Stiles, not the brunette best friend. 

**Stiles : Lydia, you need to come to Scott's house. Right now. There's something seriously wrong. Scott and Allison are on their way.** _1:20_

**You : On my way.** _Read 12:30_

After setting her phone down, Lydia changed out of her short pajama shorts and tank to skinny jeans and a light green cute too. She didn't bother running a brush through her hair– this was more important. She snatched her phone up and shoved it into her back pocket, running down the stairs. She grabbed her keys, and off she went.

After arriving at Scott's house, Lydia could already feel like something was wrong. Banshee senses tingling, she got out of her car quickly. Her immediate worry was for Allison– were she and Scott hanging out at his house? Was she in trouble? The banshee stood up straight and walked to the door. She knocked, biting her lip nervously. 

A worried Stiles answered the door, swinging it open promptly. Lydia pushed her way inside, eyes finding Allison immediately. She looked concerned, anxiety all over her features. However, she didn't look half as scared as the alpha sitting in the corner did. Scott ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip hard.

"Where's Isaac?" Lydia asked, though she already was sure she knew the answer to that. He wasn't dead. She would of felt that, right? She wasn't close to him, so maybe he could be dead without her feeling it? No, that couldn't be it. She could feel strangers' dead bodies, so it wasn't a matter of familiarity. Besides, everyone would be crying if that was the case. 

"I would like to know that, too, but none of us seem to have any clue." Allison said slowly, glancing from Lydia to Scott.

"Lydia," Scott's eyes snapped up to look at her, as if he was just now realizing she had arrived. "Can you tell if he's okay?" He asked, brown eyes almost... pleading? Lydia had assumed Scott and Isaac were friends, given Isaac had practically shifted his beta status to answer to Scott instead of Derek, but she hadn't assumed he was this worrisome over him. Then again, he was pack, wasn't he?

A bit of pressure weighed on Lydia as she worded her answer carefully. The last thing they needed was a panic stricken alpha leading them. Tapping into her ability, she tried to get a feel for Isaac's status. Unlike her werewolf friends, she didn't have as much control over her powers. It used to be where a body would show up to her senses only if it wanted to. She would get only some banshee feelings. Now she had more of a general hold over them, but asking specifically on how one person was doing? That would be a kind of unfamiliar task. She wasn't getting any impending death feelings for Isaac, but she wasn't exactly getting the usual life vibes she would get from a living person. This probably meant, from her guesses, that he wasn't in the best state at the moment.

Lydia looked at Scott again, eyes coming back into focus as she zoned back in. "He's alive." She said calmly, looking from Scott to Stiles to Allison. Her gaze lingered on Allison, and the huntress sent her a reassuring small half smile.

The breath of relief was audible as Scott seemed to relax a little, but he didn't seem anywhere near fully calm yet. Lydia could tell he was still worrying for the beta. Any alpha would worry about a werewolf alone without any pack members, right? 

She was not stupid, though. Something else seemed to be up. She wouldn't press, not at this time. Scott needed air to think over everything. She assumed they had been over the evidence left already, but that didn't stop her from strolling through the kitchen with Allison. The blood made her look away. She could handle blood, but that was Isaac's blood. It came from someone considered family, someone pack. 

Sensing Allison's anxiety, Lydia reached over and gently entwined her fingers with her friend's. As best friends, they had a tendency to hold hands and touch a lot. She gave her hand a soft but reassuring squeeze. Allison offered a small half smile back again.

"Don't worry, we will find him." Lydia assured, but even she didn't know if that would be true.


End file.
